The Findells: Music
watching her swim
(The Findells)
It’s been raining all day
And I’m afraid that you might call
Whatever it is, whatever I say
It must be wrong.
Every sound at the door,
Every creak in the floor
(I’m so alone)
I’m lying awake
And she’s in the lake
And you’re on the phone
Watching her swim
Falling in love, where does it go?
Do we understand
A face on the screen, a magazine
A touch of the hand
Is delicate?
Do we forget why we walk in a room
Or the actor’s name- the number of the train
At the end of the day?
Watching her swim